Strictly Business Page 2

  Jake headed outside to chat with Ben. First things first, he needed to arrange for George to go pick up that architect.

  He spotted Ben over by the arenas. Working with some new foals they had. Among other things Morgenstern Ranch had started breeding race horses a few years ago. It seemed to be doing well so far. They had a pretty good stud, Blackeye, plus Jake’s own horse, Satan. They also had another horse they were hopin’ to breed sometime soon. They were still trying to work the wild out of him. He was appropriately named Demon. But he was beautiful and lightning fast. If they could just get him calm, he would be a winner, and breed winners as well. Unfortunately as of right now he still wasn’t even saddle-broke. Jake and Ben both spent as much time as they could with him. They wouldn’t ask anyone else to do it, he was still too unreliable. So Jake was not at all surprised to find Ben wrestling with Demon’s lead as he ran him around the arena.

  “Hey, Ben. Demon looks a little better out there today.” Jake knew Ben had heard him even though he wouldn’t take his eyes off the horse. “You about done with him for the day? I need to set something up, and then I thought we could do a run through, see how things are goin’.”

  Ben pulled in the lead, slowing the horse down a bit then headed him back into the barn, “Yeah, I’ll just get Bobby to groom him. He seems to do okay with Bobby. I’ll be right out.”

  Jake took the few minutes he was waiting and jumped up on the rails to look around. He loved this place. Truly, down deep loved this place. It was a ton of work, from morning ‘til night. But it was worth it. He loved the trees, the dirt, the heat and cold of the seasons. Fall, with all the leaves turning red, the grass turning brown, with just the hint of winter in the air, that was his favorite time of year. He knew most people thought he was gruff and cranky, and he guessed he probably was. Mostly, anyhow. But he loved his home, loved his people, they were more like family. He just wanted to do the best by them that he could. And that meant making sure no one else came along to take advantage of him and make their lives hell again. He hopped down as he saw Ben heading back over his way. He knew Marsha thought he should get married again, so did Ben. But Jake was happy, just as he was. He didn’t need some woman coming around, messing with his head, his life.

  Maybe after he got through here for the day, he would go take a ride. It had been awhile since he’d been out just for kicks. He figured Satan could use a good run. Satan was a Colorado Ranger Horse, of Appaloosa descent. He was bigger than most, standing seventeen and a half hands high. Which was just about perfect for Jake. He was bigger than most men. He only stood about six foot three, but working a ranch had made him pretty solid. He weighed in around two hundred and fifty, all muscle. Satan did great with the cattle, herding and leading, perfect for working the ranch. He was also the fastest horse on the ranch, with the possible exception of Demon, which no one knew for sure. Satan also liked to let loose and run every now and then, much like his owner.

  “Hey Boss, what can I do you for?”

  Ben always called him ‘boss’, since he’d taken over for his father. Jake had asked him to call him Jake, but Ben refused. Said it wasn’t respectful. “I need to see if George can head out to pick up someone tomorrow at the airport? If he’s busy, let’s see who we can send. I got that architect coming out to get started on the new main house. He’s due in around one p.m.”

  “Sure, George can go. We aren’t doin’ anything much right now. Got some of the guys out fixin’ the west fence line. And we’re checkin’ everything out in the barn. Making sure we’re ready, before all the calves and foals start comin’ into the world. As many as we’ve got breedin’ this year, it’s about to get real busy around here.”

  “How’s the barn lookin’? Do I need to get someone out here to fix anything?”

  “Nah, we got enough guys around here to do what needs doin’. It’s not much. I’ll send George out to the airport tomorrow. What’s this guy look like, anyway?”

  “Don’t really know. Have him make one of those signs or somethin’. His name is Jess Wythe, from Brundel and Schein Architecture in Austin, Texas.”

  “Now, why’d you go and get a Texan to come and build your house?”

  Jake laughed. “Apparently he’s the best.”

  Ben just kind of shook his head and wandered off muttering to himself about Jake bringing in some ‘crazy ass Texan’ to build a Wyoming house.

  Jake laughed as he headed in. If he was going to pull off a new house before his parents’ anniversary, he really hoped this guy lived up to his reputation.

  Chapter 3

  Jessica stepped off the airplane into what had to be the tiniest airport she had ever seen. Of course, she’d never been to Wyoming, so maybe the Evanston airport was normal size for this state.

  She was thrilled with the opportunity to build this house and to get it done in the five month time frame she’d been given. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to fight the weather, at least not too much. She was sure there would be some summer thunderstorms, but at least no snow. She had about a week or two to nail things down, get a design going and get a team in place. She was going to use a local construction crew, but as soon as he could get away from his current project she was bringing Mike out here. She needed a foreman she could count on for a time frame this tight.

  She looked around. She’d been told there would be a driver here waiting for her. She headed around the corner to baggage claim and she saw a wall of all glass windows. Through those windows she was amazed to see, not a parking lot or concrete, or even the standard runways, but trees. Trees and flowers and bushes. It was beautiful. Texas was pretty this time of year, especially Austin, but this was amazing. Everything was blooming, literally everything. And it was this crazy rainbow of green and vibrant colors. She was so busy looking around she almost walked into someone.

  “Oops, I’m so sorry. Excuse me.” As Jessica started to walk away, she noticed the sign the man was holding. “Oh, I’m Jess Wythe. Jessica, actually. Are you here to take me to Morgenstern Ranch?” The gentleman in front of her was early twenties, brownish hair, kind of non-descript, brown eyes. He was what you would call utterly average. His expression, however, looked like Jess had just told him she’d shot his dog.

  The disbelief was made even more clear when he asked, “You’re Jess Wythe?”

  “Yes, pleased to meet you.” She held her hand out, waiting to shake. Why did this gentleman look so skeptical?

  “You’re Jess Wythe, the architect?”

  Okay, now this was just rude. “Yes, I’m Jessica Wythe, the architect from Brundel and Schein. And you are?” She knew she sounded rude, too, but she was tired and unwilling to play games with this cowboy.

  “Oh, sorry ma’am. I’m George. I’m the assistant foreman at the ranch. Yes, I’m here to take you back. Let’s just grab your luggage and we’ll head on.” George was smirking.

  They gathered her bags and headed out to the parking lot. When they stopped beside a Chevy truck, crew cab, four wheel drive, George threw her bags in the back seat and opened the door for her. Apparently the assistant foreman had good manners. But he was still smirking slightly.

  Jess waited until they were on the highway, heading away from the airport, before she finally asked, “Okay, what’s the deal?” She had always believed in approaching conflict head on.

  “What deal?”

  “You didn’t believe I was me, and when I managed to convince you, you started grinning and haven’t stopped. Do I have food in my teeth or something?”

  At this George laughed outright. “No, ma’am. No food. I was told that the architect Jess Wythe was coming in and I was to pick him up. You don’t appear to be a him. It just took me by surprise, is all.”

  “Okay.” Jess still didn’t understand the smirk. “So, why’s that funny? It’s not the first time it’s happened. Usually people don’t laugh for the next half hour.”

  “Nothing ma’am. It’s nothing at all.”

  Jess figured she had
to be missing something. She looked down to make sure all the buttons on her blouse were, in fact, buttoned. She’d known she would be meeting the client straight from the airport, so she’d come in business attire. Not her favorite way to fly, but necessary. As she looked down she noted that everything was in place and, other than a few wrinkles, appeared to be fine. No tears or anything that would be entertaining. She decided that George must just be a little off and let it go.

  The rest of the drive passed with small talk. She commented on the gorgeous scenery, and he told her a few of the plants’ and trees’ names. She also asked him to please call her Jess as opposed to ‘ma’am’. She knew it was polite, but it made her feel old.

  When George mentioned they were on Morgenstern property Jess perked up, making sure to note some of the landscaping. She knew it was all natural, not planted, but she wanted to make sure to consider it when designing the home. As they pulled up to what was currently the main house she noticed that while it was dated, it was well cared for. It had probably been painted just last year. It was a white wood frame farm house, with dark green trim. Someone had planted flowers in a small planter in the front yard. There were more flowers in pots next to the swing on the back porch. A swing! It was perfect. Why would anyone want to replace this perfect home? Not that she didn’t appreciate getting the job, but this house so suited the ranch that it would tear her heart out to rip it down. Maybe the owner didn’t like it? She’d heard the son had taken over for the father about four years ago. Maybe he liked the newer, sleeker look. It was all Jess could do not to cringe at the thought. Putting some ultra-modern, trendy house in this perfect landscape would be horrible. But the client was always right.

  George parked the truck in front of the house, grabbing her bag out of the back seat for her. She slid out of the truck and pulled the handle of her rolling suitcase. “Thanks, George. I appreciate the ride. Can you please tell me where I should go to meet with Mr. Morgenstern?” She had a few hours to get a feel for the place and her new client, before she went to her hotel this evening. Oh, I need to ask about car rental as well.

  “Yeah, I’ll take you into the house. Marsha’ll find the boss for you.”

  Jess followed him up the front steps and into the house. The entry opened up into a small, but quaint living room. Most of the furniture was modern, although not what she would have thought a bachelor would’ve chosen. There was definitely a female touch involved here. Was this the owner’s taste? Mostly, it looked like there had been a cohesive sense of style at one point, and now it was just whatever was left. Mmmmm, she might need to call Cindy in on this, when they got that far. She always did well helping a client find their style.

  George led her past the dining room, same mishmash style, and into a kitchen that could only be described as antique. It was clean and sunny, with bright yellow paint and white cabinets, but it was definitely outdated.

  “Marsha, the, uh, architect is here. Marsha, this is Jess Wythe. Ms. Wythe, our housekeeper, Marsha.”

  Marsha turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. She had been rolling dough, and had flour on her nose and forehead. She was exactly what you would expect from a ranch housekeeper. Almost a cliché, really. Except for the look on her face. Which was shock, followed by cheeky humor. “Well, Ms. Wythe. It’s certainly nice to meet you. I’ll just take you back in to meet Jake. Thanks, George. Come on now, just follow me.”

  Jess was confused again by her reception. Everyone seemed very friendly, but somewhat amused by meeting her. Since there still seemed to be nothing amiss with her clothing, Jess thought it must be because she was a woman. Jess knew her name threw people, that’s why she usually introduced herself as Jessica, as well as why she had Jessica on all her business cards. Only close friends called her Jess. And her boss, Mr. Brundel. But, to be so amused by it, well that was making her a bit nervous.

  “Umm, excuse me, Marsha, would you mind terribly if I just freshened up a bit before I meet with Mr. Morgenstern?”

  “Oh, my goodness child, I should’ve thought of that, I just so wanted to see the look on his face! Oh, come on down here, there’s a powder room right over there.” She bustled backwards past Jess, and opened a door just off the hall. “Go on, I’ll just scoot down the hall and let Jake know you’re here. I’ll be right back.”

  Jess brought her smaller bag with her into the restroom, leaving the suitcase in the hall. Marsha’s comment about wanting to see Jake’s reaction had done nothing to calm her nerves. She took a few minutes to freshen her makeup, putting on the light peach lip gloss to help hide the natural red of her mouth, tightened and re-pinned her bun and did her best to straighten out her suit and smooth out any wrinkles.

  When she felt she had her game face on, she headed back out into the hall to go meet the client. He’d obviously been expecting a man, but he requested the best, and she was that. Regardless of her gender.

  Marsha had waited for her, and now led her down the hall to what was obviously an office. Or a master bedroom, judging by the very large mahogany double doors.

  “Jake, boy, the architect is here.”

  * * * * *

  Jake looked up from his computer and saw Marsha standing next to a very petite, somewhat frumpy woman in a drab, horrid gray suit. Her hair was in a severe roll of some sort, although it appeared to be an attractive color, not quite black. She was fair skinned, with very attractive features. Sharp chin, high cheekbones and huge brown eyes. She was not overtly pretty, and yet he found himself somewhat drawn to her. He looked behind her, expecting to see her boss standing there.

  With a muffled chuckle, Marsha introduced the woman. “Jake, this is Ms. Jess Wythe.” With that, Marsha backed out of the room.

  Jake stared at the woman, taking in the entire package and trying to reconcile it now that he knew she was the architect. When he finally got back to her eyes, he noticed that she was busy taking his measure as well.

  After a rather uncomfortable pause, she finally spoke. “Hi, Mr. Morgenstern, I’m Jessica Wythe. I’m under the impression, that you were not expecting…well, me. Rather, you were expecting a gentleman. I’m terribly sorry about the confusion. Mr. Brundel has always called me Jess. Apparently it’s his granddaughter’s name.” With this she was standing in front of his desk, holding her hand out for him to shake.

  Her voice was like warm brandy. It seemed terribly out of place coming from the dowdy woman standing before him. It was the voice of a siren. And, as if she was a siren, he suddenly found himself impossibly drawn to her. This wasn’t going to work. He needed another architect.

  She stood there, obviously waiting for him to shake her hand. When he finally reached out, gripping her hand in his, he found her grip to be firm, her skin soft. Just as he felt the jolt of electricity, she pulled her hand back as if she'd been burned. “Ms. Wythe, I’m sorry about the confusion, but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

  “I’m sorry, what’s not going to work out?”

  “You, as my architect. I’ll call Mr. Brundel and explain the situation. Explain that this is in no way your fault, but I need him to send me another architect.” Jake had no idea why, but for some reason he felt that having her here was dangerous. It was probably just because he didn’t handle surprises well.

  “Excuse me. Am I to understand that you are…firing me? Because I’m not a man?”

  Her words dripped with sarcasm. He almost smiled at the first sign of fire from the bland Ms. Wythe. This little spark seemed more in keeping with the voice than the clothes. “No, not really. Well yeah, actually. This ranch has almost exclusively men living here. The only woman who will reside in the main house is Marsha, and I’ve already given her complete control within the kitchen. However, the rest of the house will be essentially mine. And I would like someone to design it that understands me.”

  “You have no idea what I understand or don’t understand.” Her voice rose as she continued, “You have yet to even speak to me, let alone get to know
me or see any of my designs. And as for what I understand, let me tell you. I understand that you have not redecorated this house in well over ten years, probably longer. The original decoration reflects, I would hazard to guess, your mother’s taste and has since become some random collection of whatever was lying around. I also understand that the only room in the house, or at least the bottom floor, that in any way reflects your personal choices, is this room. I would bet that this is not only your office, but your haven. And I also understand that you are a chauvinist pig. And, if you call Mr. Brundel and request a new architect, I will personally pay him his commission percentage of this job’s estimate to refuse your request and refuse to send anyone else out here!”

  She was standing opposite him, leaning in with her hands on the desk. Since he had assumed the same position on the other side, they were almost nose to nose. And she was yelling at him. In his office, in his home. She was yelling at him and calling him names. He was irate! And she was gorgeous. Somehow, warm brown eyes were shooting fire while she was yelling. And the anger seemed to break that icy, boring package. He was not at all sure whether he wanted to kill her or kiss her. A strange blend of urges, especially for him. He opted for yelling right back.

  “Ms. Wythe, I don’t know how you treat your clients, but I can assure you that screaming at me will in no way help you keep this job! I do not tolerate people yelling at me! Do you understand?”

  He watched as shock and horror registered on her face. She took a breath, schooling her face back into the calm, boring mask. If he looked closely, he could still see the anger simmering underneath, but it was barely perceptible.

  “Mr. Morgenstern,” now her voice dripped icicles as she spoke, “I am going to need a ride back to the airport. There is not a snowball’s chance in hell that I would take this job. Which is your loss, by the way. You asked for the best, and I’m the best. Oh, and good luck finding any other architect who can pull off the house you want in under five months. I’ll show myself out, thanks.” She turned on her heel and walked toward the door.